


The Littlest Emo

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Cute, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Stand Alone, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete wakes up a child on tour.</p><p>  <i>Andy leaves almost as quickly as he arrives, complaining that it's clearly drugs and he doesn't do drugs so it's not his responsibility and they better have it figured out by the show tomorrow.  Joe just stares at Pete like he isn't sure whether or not he's real and Pete looks back at him with equal distrust.  Patrick isn't sure if Pete's perception remained when he shrank or if he was always just the most insightful child ever.</i></p><p>  <i>"How old are you?"  Joe asks finally.</i></p><p>  <i>"I'm six today," Pete says, "but I was more yesterday."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Littlest Emo

Twenty-three year old Patrick falls asleep next to twenty-eight year old Pete. When he wakes up, there's a six year old boy next to him poking tattoos on tiny arms that shouldn't have any. "Look, I'm pretty," he says, holding an arm out for inspection when Patrick wakes up. "I have one on my tummy, too. Want to see?"

"Pete?" Patrick blinks twice and shakes his head, rolling back over and pulling a pillow to his face. He must be dreaming. Did they drink last night? He doesn't remember drinking.

"Don't anore me!" miniature Pete cries, picking up another pillow and hitting Patrick in the chest with as much strength as his tiny tattooed arms can manage.

It's Pete's childish pronunciation of _'ignore'_ that makes Patrick's eyes pop open behind the pillowcase. He's pretty sure he wouldn't think to dream that detail up. Slowly, terrified, he pulls the pillow away and meets eyes with the six year old version of his boyfriend. It's adorable and also the scariest thing Patrick has ever seen. "Pete?" he asks again, uncertainly.

The child leans over and lightly bites Patrick's arm in response. The singer doesn't need anymore convincing.

"I'm hungry," Pete whines. "There's pancakes here, right? I want pancakes. With syrup. And bacon. Pancakes, 'Trick!" Then he sits on the bed and pouts, trying to look cute and succeeding at it.

Patrick gives himself five seconds to breathe and kill his disbelief. This is happening. He's just going to have to deal with it. "I'll order you pancakes if you sit here and watch TV and _be good_." It's not much different than he would talk to Pete under normal circumstances.

The boy looks up at Patrick with big brown eyes. "I promise," he says solemnly, nodding his head. Then his eyes light up. "But bacon too! Bacon!"

"Bacon," Patrick agrees, reaching for the phone and dialing the extension for room service. While he's ordering breakfast for the two of them, he's texting Joe and Andy to come to their room as soon as they wake up. 

Pete is tracing the plaid design on Patrick's pajama bottoms with two fingers and ignoring the remote that was handed to him. "Are you mad at me?" he asks when Patrick hangs up the phone, looking up with his bottom lip sticking out.

The singer sighs and holds his arms out on instinct. Instead of a grown man hiding in his neck, he gets a six year old boy sitting in his lap, peering up at him anxiously. "I'm not mad at you," Patrick promises gently. "I'm frustrated with the situation. What do you remember about yesterday?" He plays with mini Pete's hair and tries not to think about how absolutely sweet he looks. Now he understands why people say they'll eat cute babies.

The child screws up his face, thinking hard. "We drove a lot. And played music. And . . . I was bigger," Pete adds softly. "Why am I not bigger?" He scowls, not unlike his adult self, at the realization that he only just knows what's going on. No one tells him anything no matter how old he is. Mini Pete crosses his arms and glares at Patrick like it's his fault.

"I don't know why you're little," the (currently) older boy tells him. 

"I am not little!" Pete shrieks indignantly, standing up on the bed to prove his point. 

"Hey, now." Patrick frowns at him. "None of that. You promised to be good."

Pete huffs and throws himself back down on the mattress, arms crossed. "Not little," he mutters under his breath. 

Patrick rolls his eyes and stands up. "I need to change, Pete. Stay here." He double checks the latch on the hotel door before disappearing in the bathroom and pulling on clean clothes. He looks at his text messages and groans. The one from Joe is a profanity laced version of 'do you know what time it is' and Andy's just says 'no'. 

Patrick hides Pete in the bathroom when room service arrives. He tips the attendant and wheels the tray in. "You can come out now."

Pete pokes his head around the side of the door way. "I need to wash my hands, but I can't reach. Can you help?" 

He looks so precious and defenseless that Patrick couldn't say no even if he wanted to. (And who really wants to say no to a kid anyway?) He scoops Pete up with one arm and sets him on the counter next to the sink, smiling as the child giggles and reaches for the soap. "You should take your hoodie off so you don't get it dirty."

Pete shakes his head as he pushes his sleeves up. "No. I don't like the way I feel with it off." Patrick watches him wash his hands and wonders how much of this Pete's personality comes from the adult Pete and how much of it is true to his actual childhood. He doesn't push the hoodie issue.

There's syrup on Pete's chin and a grease stain from bacon on one of his sleeves, but other than that he's relatively clean when Patrick snaps the picture. He sends it to Andy and Joe with the words, 'look what Pete did'.

Less than five minutes later, he hears knocks on the hotel room door and gives a small smile of satisfaction. Pete smiles too, even though he isn't sure why.

\---

Andy leaves almost as quickly as he arrives, complaining that it's clearly drugs and he doesn't do drugs so it's not his responsibility and they better have it figured out by the show tomorrow. Joe just stares at Pete like he isn't sure whether or not he's real and Pete looks back at him with equal distrust. Patrick isn't sure if Pete's perception remained when he shrank or if he was always just the most insightful child ever.

"How old are you?" Joe asks finally.

"I'm six today," Pete says, "but I was more yesterday."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Language!" Patrick squawks immediately as mini Pete's eyes widen. "it's bad enough he has tattoos. We don't need CPS taking him away." 

"Who's going to take me away?" Pete asks fearfully, looking at Patrick with wide eyes. It takes five minutes to convince him that no one is taking him away. Once Pete is settled on the bed and watching cartoons, the two adults sit on the couch and have a whispered conversation. 

"What did you two do last night?" Joe asks. 

"Nothing," Patrick insists defensively. "We were wiped. We didn't watch TV or anything." He hopes that Joe understands 'anything' is a euphemism for sex because that is the _last_ conversation he wants mini Pete to overhear.

"I watched TV," Pete says brightly from the bed, apparently graced with super-hearing as a child. "I watched cartoons and had a drink from the little fridge and then I went to sleep. Patrick went to sleep first."

"Getting drunk and watching cartoons doesn't usually turn him into a kid," Patrick points out, interrupting Joe's train of thought. "I mean, it never has before."

"I'm bored," Pete announces suddenly, standing up on the mattress and placing his hands on his hips as if his predicament takes precedent over everything. "Can we do something? I want to do something. I'm bored." He looks at Patrick pointedly.

Joe laughs. It's the same demand adult Pete makes, expecting Patrick to find means of entertaining him. "Why don't you figure this out?" Joe suggests to the singer. "And I'll make a few phone calls and see if anyone can help."

"You think someone else has had their bassist turn into a school kid?" Patrick asks skeptically.

The other boy shrugs. "It's not like they would have told us if they had." He takes one last look at mini Pete, who is crawling off the bed, and disappears. 

Patrick has approximately half a second to watch the door close before Pete is tugging on his hand. "C'mon, Trick. I'm bored. Wanna do stuff." It's Pete same whine. It's higher pitched because this voice hasn't broken and Patrick can easily fit both of the boy's hands in one of his, but it's still the same exact Pete. Patrick smiles and then instantly frowns.

This is going to suck.

\---

The city they are in has a zoo and Patrick figures a zoo is filled with enough people that they might not stick out so badly. Patrick knows he won't attract attention the way adult Pete does, but even mini Pete is bound to attract plenty attention of his own. He's too young to have obviously dyed hair and look like a little emo monster.

Patrick has a serious talk with the first grader before they leave the hotel about leaving his hoodie on. "Kids aren't supposed to have tattoos, Pete." The child is sitting on the couch while Patrick sits on the coffee table and ties his shoes.

"I know." Pete smiles because he's special.

The singer gives a small chuckle and shake of his head before fixing his blue eyes on the boy again. "You have to keep your hoodie on so people don't see. If they do, they'll think someone was mean to you and take you away, okay?"

Pete scowls, clearly visualizing plans of being a six year old inkmaster going up in smoke. 

"We can't go anywhere until you promise." Patrick finishes tying the second shoe.

 _"Fiiiiiine."_ Pete gives a heavy sign and appears to literally drag himself off the couch toward the door. "I promise." He sounds annoyed but sincere and he pulls his zipper a little higher on his hoodie to prove his point. The brown eyes look at Patrick expectantly. "Can we go now?"

\---

Adult Pete prefers aquariums. Mini Pete likes monkeys and lions and crocodiles. Patrick tells him they have to hold hands which results in his being pulled around by the tips of his fingers at the whims of a surprisingly fast six year old. Patrick tells anyone who asks that Pete is his crazy sister's kid and somehow ends up with three phone numbers.

Mini Pete watches with displeasure each time a pretty girl laughs at Patrick or says how sweet he is or touches his shoulder or hands him a napkin with a lipstick print in the corner. He's too young to know why he feels angry; he just knows that Patrick is _his_. After the pink haired girl with the nose ring leaves, Pete crawls out of his chair to kick Patrick at the other side of the table.

"Pete!" the boy hisses, hauling the child into his lap. Pete is squirming and Patrick has difficulty keeping his grip but he manages, trying to avoid the faces of the people looking. 

"You're mine," Pete says in a quiet voice, still kicking his feet. He's refusing to look at Patrick. "You're not supposed to talk to those girls." 

Sarcastic amusement registers on Patrick's face for a moment. Oh, is that what that means? Adult Patrick is going to need to have a talk with adult Pete when he gets back.

"Hey, now," Patrick tells him softly. He brings a hand up to rub the child's back, hoping it will help calm him down. "I had to be nice to those girls, Pete."

"You like it," Pete says bluntly.

Patrick glowers at him. Partially because Pete's right but mostly because he's not going to get told off for flirting by the miniature version of his boyfriend who flirts more than he breathes. "Time to go back to the hotel, I guess," he says, standing up with the boy in his arms.

The change in Pete's demeanor is instantaneous. "No, no, no," he pleads, throwing his arms around the singer's neck as he begins to walk. "We can't go before we see the bears. Please, Patrick, please? I'll be good." He starts crying and the other boy realizes Pete must be completely exhausted. He needs a nap but he's still weakly whispering 'bears' as he cries against Patrick's neck. The singer finds the zoo map near the concession stand and starts them in the direction of the requested animals.

Pete climbs down and runs along the pane of glass when they get to the exhibit, his sleepiness and the rule about hand holding temporarily forgotten. His eyes are lit up and his smile is bright as he presses his face flat against the glass to get a closer look. Patrick watches him with a small smile on his face until the boy comes running over and grabs his hand to pull him closer. He holds his arms out to be picked up.

Once Pete is settled safely in Patrick's side, he leans in to whisper a secret. "They're soft and pretty like you." He shyly kisses Patrick's cheek and the singer is pretty sure he can feel his heart melting in his chest. 

"Are you ready to go now, Pete?" he asks, giving the boy a little squeeze. The child nods and brings his hand up to cover a yawn. He's asleep before they get to the bank of cabs outside.

\---

Patrick puts sleeping Pete into bed and covers him with a blanket. He grabs his wallet and hesitates at the door, then hurries down the hall to the elevator. He just needs one quick drink and to maybe grabs some coloring books or something from the gift shop for Pete. He'll only be gone a minute.

When he gets back to the room, the bed is empty. He's already beginning to panic when he hears the sniffle from inside the closet. He opens the door to see the little boy crouched in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest. "You left me all alone," he tells Patrick in a tearful voice.

The adult flinches like he's been slapped, the guilt heavy on his face. "I'm sorry." He was only gone for about fifteen minutes but there's no telling how long Pete's been hiding in the closet and crying or how long it felt like to the child. "I won't do that again," Patrick promises. "Can you come here?" 

Pete sniffles and pushes himself up. He wipes at his wet eyes with both of his hands and takes a few steps out of the closet, pressing his face to Patrick's chest and waiting silently to be picked up. He's done crying, but he remains in Patrick's lap once they're back on the bed. 

There's a bag from the gift shop and Pete's face lights up as he goes through it. He ends up on his stomach, happily coloring outside of the lines while Patrick texts Joe to see if he's made any progress. Leave it to Joe to get people to confess to age-shifting band members.

Joe comes over a few minutes later, Andy in tow. "I finally convinced him it wasn't drugs."

"I'm still not convinced," Andy tells Patrick, leaning around him to narrow his eyes appraisingly at the child coloring on the bed.

Patrick takes a step to the left to block his view. "Don't upset him," he warns. "He had a long day and he's worn out." He looks at Pete once and turns his head back to see the other two men exchanging glances. "What?" he demands defensively.

"I just didn't know it was possible for you to get more nauseatingly protective of him," Joe teases, showing his teeth with an extra wide smile. "But, yeah, so . . . he just has to sleep it off. Apparently this happened to Nate and Gabe said--"

"Gabe?" Patrick interrupts, raising an eyebrow. "You're trusting Gabe? You know he's just fucking with you, right?"

Joe opens his mouth and closes it again, embarrassed. Clearly the thought hadn't crossed his mind.

"Patrick?" a tiny voice from the bedroom calls.

The singer shakes his head at the pair of them before turning and moving into the the other side of the hotel room. Most of the crayons are back in the box and Pete has gently placed his finished masterpiece on the nightstand. "I'm hungry," he says softly. He bites his bottom lip and looks at Patrick like he wants to say more but isn't sure if he should.

"Is that all?" Patrick asks him, the same prodding questions he would use any other day.

Mini Pete shakes his head and looks at his hands, cuddling into Patrick's chest when he sits down and pulls Pete into his lap. "I wanna go home," Pete whispers as two fat tears roll down his cheeks. "But I can't, can I?"

Patrick kisses the top of the boy's head and rocks him. He doesn't like this. Doesn't like Pete hurt and sad and him unable to do fucking _anything_ about it. "No, sweetie," he says softly, "you can't go home. I'm sorry. But I'm going to stay with you until everything's better, okay?"

Pete sniffles and nods and clings tighter to Patrick's shirt. "Okay," he whispers in that trust child's voice. He yawns and closes his eyes. He's asleep within five minutes and Patrick tenderly tucks him in, takes off his hoodie and shoes.

He slips back into the front area of the room where Joe and Andy are determinedly not saying anything. "He's sleeping."

"Maybe that will fix it since that's what broke it," Joe says hopefully.

Patrick nods distantly. "Maybe."

\---

Sleep does not fix it. Patrick wakes up the next morning to giggles that are just slightly too high pitched. He finds the child in the dry bathtub, playing with the stuffed animals from the gift shop. He looks slightly guilty when Patrick walks in. He puts his turtle down. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't," Patrick lies because he doesn't want Pete to feel bad. He's thinking about how they have to cancel the show that night and how the little boy looking at him really shouldn't hear anything about it.

That plan fails almost immediately. Patrick texts Joe and Andy and tells them to let the right people know so he doesn't have to drag Pete all over the hotel. About fifteen minutes later there's a pounding on his door and then nearly a dozen people walk in, including the rest of the band. No one believes Pete is six years old.

They all stare at the kid until he runs to hide behind Patrick's leg, refusing to look anyone in the eye. He plays with the back of the singer's jeans. 

"He's short," someone says suddenly. "Do you think anyone would even notice?"

Patrick frowns immediately. "He's six years old."

"If we could find him a smaller bass and maybe some lifts," someone else says.

Patrick stomps the foot Pete isn't hiding behind. "He's six!" he repeats, louder. "He can't play bass. He's _six!_ He didn't fucking shrink." Everyone's eyes are on him and he's trying not to turn red. 

"So what do you suggest?" 

Patrick's eyes widen in disbelief and anger. "Are you . . . seriously? Fucking seriously? Cancel the show like I said. We can get on the buses and get a head start for tomorrow or whatever. He's not playing and we don't play without him." He looks down to see how Pete's holding up and the kid's entire face is soaked in tears.

 _"OUT!"_ Patrick shouts suddenly, pointing at the door. "Everyone out. You all made a kid cry before fucking noon. I hope you're proud of yourselves." His voice has the same sting as battery acid. There's silence as everyone filters out, avoiding the singer's fiery gaze.

Only Joe and Andy remain, watching as Patrick kneels down to talk to Pete, using his jacket to wipe at the boy's cheeks. "Sorry," Pete whispers and the expression on his face breaks Patrick's heart.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. This isn't your fault." Pete nods but he has the same look of disbelief he usually does when Patrick tries to convince him not to blame himself. Mini Pete remembers that it's usually his fault. Patrick kisses the top of his head and he feels a little better. "Go watch cartoons for a minute and then we'll get breakfast."

Once Pete's situated, Patrick returns to the other two boys by the door. "Maybe it's like a bug and just has to run it's course?" he suggests, shrugging. "I'm going to feed him and get him something to wear and then-- _What?"_

Joe and Andy are looking at each other and clearly silently trying to decide if they should say something.

"What?" Patrick repeats again.

Andy sighs. "What if . . . what if he doesn't change back?"

Patrick blinks. He hadn't entertained the thought yet. He wasn't going to entertain the thought. Pete _had_ to change back. He had to. "That's not going to happen," Patrick says flatly.

"But what if it does?" Joe asks gently. "Just--"

"Then I'll fucking take him back to Chicago and take care of him until he's eighteen again," Patrick snaps. "I don't fucking know." And then he stops off to the bedroom area of the hotel room. Joe and Andy let themselves out.

\---

Three hours later, Pete is fed and has a new tee shirt on. They're on the bus and Pete is short enough to sit up in his bunk and watch a movie on his laptop. He ends up falling asleep with his face on the keys. Patrick tucks him in.

"God dammit," Joe says when the bassist emerges an hour later. "You couldn't have fucking done this before we left?"

Pete blinks, confused, still trying to figure out if the fuzzy thoughts floating around in his head are dreams or not. And then there's Patrick, nearly knocking him over with the force of his hug. There's lips on his and he doesn't usually get kissed this hard for waking up, especially with people around.

There's an awkward silence when the kiss breaks, Patrick looking hysterically happy while Joe and Andy just look relieved.

"So . . ." Pete begins, clearing his throat. "Was I six years old yesterday?"

Patrick laughs weakly. "Oh, God, do I have some stories for you."

"Did I still have my tattoos?" the older boy asks excitedly.

Patrick groans.


End file.
